


That's Entertainment!

by Hambone



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjoying one of life's simpler pleasures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's Entertainment!

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic I'm posting to get the hang of this site.  
> Heed the warnings well!

Blurr scooted back against the wall, holding his side gingerly. The area he protected sparked, fresh energon freely slipping between his caged servos. A trickle of the same substance split his lips and he spat, discoloring the floor. Not that it was very noticeable, though - just another splash in the puddle he sat in. 

Shockwave stood before him, tall, silent, waiting. Uselessly blinking the energon from his optics, Blurr struggled to focus. Disoriented by his quickly fading energy, by cycles of starvation and degradation, this proved harder than he could have previously imagined. Though it had long ago sunk in that he was not going to escape on his own, that he was hopelessly outclassed and outmatched, he still had some fight left in him. He had to. Good Autobots didn’t give up so easily, members of the Elite Guard never broke. Ever. 

Though Shockwave had made no move to interrogate him so far, Blurr knew it was coming. There was no other logical reason for him to be kept online. All this waiting was just the prologue to his upcoming torture, intended to whittle him down, make him frightened. It wouldn’t work though. Blurr would never crack. 

“You-won’t-get-anything-out-of-me-you-know.” Despite no longer having the energy to shout, Blurr was pleased that his words still carried the intended amount of venom. Shockwave tilted his head, observing. Blurr’s intakes of air were shallow, betraying his true fear. Not that much exposition was needed on the subject, the rosy glow of his own energon creating a tangible aura around him. Electricity still crackled up the crumpled stump of his right leg, despite it having been slagged solar cycles ago, when Shockwave had first dragged him away to this little room. He was hurting. 

“You have nothing to give that I cannot take, child.” Blurr drew further into the wall, disgusted. The last word had carried a lower intonation, sugary and deep. 

“Besides,” Shockwave drawled, “any information you may have that would benefit the Decepticon cause is already in my possession.” Raising a shaking hand to his face, Blurr tried to wipe some of the energon away. This only served to smear it around more, but it did shield him from Shockwave’s unblinking stare, if only for a moment. 

“You should know that, Blurr.”

Shockwave finally moved, casually shrinking the distance between them. There was nowhere to run, so Blurr braced himself against the floor, raising his chin high and defiant. 

The heavy thud of Shockwave’s pede onto his chest knocked him dizzy. It also kept him pinned as Shockwave loomed closer, bending his sloped neck low. Blurr yelled, gripping the weight on him with both hands and clinging helplessly. Shockwave hummed.

“There is a reason I have kept you online, of course,” a claw tapped Blurr’s chin, lifting his helm up to be bathed in red light. Blurr shuttered his optics and looked away.

“Can you guess what it is, little one?” 

Shockwave’s vocals purred out each syllable with a kind of amused superiority that made Blurr burn with shame, feeling weak but indignant. 

“Go frag yourself,” Blurr seethed, slow and deliberate. He spat again, a pathetic trickle of rosy energon that harmlessly rolled off the boot holding him down. Shockwave’s optic darkened. 

“A novel idea.”

His left pede lifted up slightly, then slammed into Blurr’s chest again, crushing him to the wall and shattering the glass of his windshield. He couldn’t prevent himself from crying out as it ground against him, holding him in place. He dragged his servos painfully up the side of Shockwave’s ankle in desperation. Squinting up through the coolant that had begun to leak through his optics, Blurr was just able to make out a fuzzy image of Shockwave’s helm moving closer. 

Something stroked up the side of his arm and he tried to jerk away.  

“D-Decepticon-scum-!” 

Shockwave gripped his arm tightly, not allowing movement. Blurr jumped in his hold again and he squeezed, denting the mesh plating until it split in a shower of sparks. The entire room lit up, briefly, perfectly illuminating Blurr’s horrified expression. Shockwave huffed pleasantly and Blurr vented hard, kicking up his good leg in a weak attempt to knock him away.

“Get-off-get-off-get-off-get-off-!” 

Shockwave paused for a moment, just holding him there, bent over and uncomfortably intent. Blurr could feel small puffs of air against his helm, processed and clean. Shockwave was so, so close. Too close.

 Then he pushed his pede down more heavily and pulled back, ripping Blurr’s arm off at the shoulder. 

Shockwave stepped away and allowed Blurr to fall forward, blindly groping at the hole where his limb had been. He screamed, horribly. 

His optical sensors blew white, and all he could hear was a rush of loud static. His processor was on the fritz, trying to recoil an arm that wasn’t there and making the remaining gears whine and tremble. Blurr pressed his faceplates into the ground, servos digging at his exposed tubing, groping around in search of a way to stop the pain. 

For a blind second, Blurr thought Shockwave must have killed him, because there was nothing around him, nothing below him. His world consisted only of the sensation of loss. Then the internal diagnostic warnings began to pop up, and he screamed again. 

Shockwave sat down on a bench that extended from the wall. He watched with great interest as Blurr continued to jerk and writhe on the floor, spreading his own fluids around as he kicked and clawed helplessly. He leaned back, casually stroking his claw over the tiny wrist and first servo of Blurr’s arm, which he still held, listening to the wails die down to a beleaguered sobbing.  

When Blurr finally looked up at him, he was petting the arm, resting it on his thigh gently, like a living thing. Acknowledging his weak attempt to collect himself, Shockwave shifted his grip, maneuvering the little white servos until they splayed on the tank plating beneath his hip. Fazing in and out of proper consciousness, Blurr coughed raggedly, energon bubbling out between his lips. 

“Focus, Blurr.” Shockwave began to drag the hand that wasn’t his up and down his thigh, slowly. Shuddering hard enough to rattle his loose components, Blurr tried to prop himself up against the wall again. His hand slipped in the wetness below and he fell, twice, just managing to right himself halfway. Shockwave watched, pushing Blurr’s hand, unbidden, into the fork of his legs. 

Venting loudly, Blurr chocked down another torn noise and baulked. Shockwave swirled Blurr’s servos around the mesh, pressing them harder. He let out a shaky sigh and Blurr’s optics widened. 

“Good,” Shockwave’s voice had deepened slightly, “I see you’ve caught on.” 

He pushed Blurr’s hand up against his closed interface panel, marking himself with small pink prints. The energon had spilled down from the jagged hole at the end of his arm and now drizzled down through the seams of Shockwave’s array, warming and wetting his spread thighs. One servo limply traced the seal, drawing a thin outline against his black plating. 

“Yuh-yuh-“Shockwave’s optic slit slid upward. Blurr’s vocalizer had shorted during his spasms, and was cutting in and out with quick static bursts. His helm was resting heavily against the wall, but he managed to keep his gaze trained on Shockwave, optics dull with pain, but hard. 

“Yuh-you-you-y-y-you-si-ii-ii-si-ick-fr-r-ahh-ahh-ahh-agg-ger-r-r-“

Shockwave’s interface panel retracted, baring his entire array. As his spike bobbed up, it brushed against Blurr’s inert servos and he moaned softly, just enough to be heard from across the room. Blurr shrunk into himself, trying to glare, but Shockwave simply stared impassively and continued to caress himself. The mood had tangibly shifted, and he was no longer simply amused by Blurr’s pain. He was completely and totally enthralled by it. 

 He moved Blurr’s hand again, using his own claws to loosely wrap his servos around the thick base of his spike, squeezing. Blurr bit out another short cough of static babble, too muddled to be intelligible, but his tone was still clear. 

“Fuh-fuh-fuh-“

“I suppose it is too much to ask,” Shockwave began, dragging their hands up himself slowly, “for you to pay full attention-“he moaned again, quiet and heavy, rubbing around the tip, “-but do try your best. I will not accept poor performance from you in the future.” 

“Iah-Iah-yuh-yee-yee-“ 

Little white servos slid up and down Shockwave’s spike, lubricated by their own spilled liquids.  Claws arched, Shockwave squeezed them until the mesh of Blurr’s digits buckled slightly, little ridges rising into artificial knuckles. Each stroke backed down into the growing pool of energon around the base housing, making a slick squelching noise that echoed loud in the hollow room.  Blurr felt it as if it were coming from inside his own churning fuel tanks. Had he not been so starved, he was sure he would have purged. 

His lifeless servos circled lower and lower until they left Shockwave’s spike entirely and traced the rim of his valve. Colors mixed garishly as he dipped the tips inside, just so, the greater portion of the arm still rubbing against the shaft of his spike, and he looked directly into Blurr’s optic sensors and said his name. 

Blurr did heave then, dryly. He curled in on himself, the sudden pressure making the energon spurt from his wound with renewed vigor, only adding to his lightheadedness. Weakness slurred his processor, error warnings reiterating how dangerously low his energy levels had sunk. 

“Look at me, Blurr.”

Shockwave’s voice was stern, but it shook. Blurr didn’t want to look, couldn’t bear to, but did. It pleased Shockwave more than anything, and he wrapped them around his spike once more and tugged with deliberate insistence. He never took his optic off Blurr. Condensation, even in the cold room, sweat down his thighs as his core temperature spiked in sharp stabs of pleasure that contradicted his calm demeanor.  

His hips would jerk occasionally, meeting the rhythm of their hands, and each time Blurr would flinch in return, as if the space between them spanned only inches. 

“Look,” he said again, softer now, but strained. Blurr was unable to do anything but comply. 

He did lean away, though, wanting to turn his head, and the action nearly slipped him back on the wet floor. The mess was everywhere, on everything, and it threw him, for a brief, shuddering moment, into a sense of reality so deeply shocking that he could not help but cry in terror. 

 Shockwave raised his hips and held them there, gripping them both _so_ tightly. He trembled, just once, then overloaded. 

As if his arm were still attached, Blurr felt the heat. His spark whirled inside of him and he was intimately aware of every twitch and quiver, every turn of a fan blade inside the other mech. Shockwave watched him still as his transfluid spilled down both their wrists, as the tremors died down and his ventilation slowed. 

Blurr was caught by his own shock. Even as Shockwave relaxed against the far wall, tension draining from the room, he could not fully process his own horror. Shockwave had cut away a piece of him and used it against him. Like an enormous ball of metal shavings, sickness caught in his intakes and he couldn’t choke it down, painful and heavy.

But it was over now. Shifting from his paralysis, Blurr relaxed the vice-grip he had clamped his shoulder in, hissing at the release of pressure and the sting it brought. Pixilated blobs swam through his field of vision, mercifully blinding him from the red as his processor rushed. 

Sight wasn’t needed to feel the floor shake. Shockwave had stood. His interface paneling slid back into place, shutting almost soundlessly. 

“Next time, I hope, our arrangement will be more mutually pleasurable.” 

He dropped Blurr’s arm in front of him with a wet thud. Sight still unclear, Blurr froze instinctually, even as silver drops of transfluid splashed onto his faceplates. Shockwave crouched on his toes, avoiding the majority of the puddle with practiced ease. 

“Wouldn’t you like that, little one?”

Blurr’s helm rose slowly until they sat face to face, but his optics slanted away. 

Shockwave hummed, reaching for Blurr’s undamaged arm. Meeting no resistance, he soothed his claws along the back of the small palm, imitating a kind gesture with near-convincing accuracy.

Blurr turned his head to the side and dryly purged his tanks. 

 

 


End file.
